


The Coming and Going of Ivy

by cchilelli



Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Death, Cheating, Collective POV, Education, F/M, Female POV, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Literary Realism, Original Character Death(s), Original Fiction, Real Life, Realism, Summary of a Life, Tragic Death, new start, simple life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24535282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cchilelli/pseuds/cchilelli
Summary: A simple woman, an ordinary life, a new town to start again, but little knowledge of the town. They told her life in rural Moore would be boring, that she would get tired of it, but she went anyway.
Kudos: 1





	The Coming and Going of Ivy

Local Teacher Hit by Semitruck Overnight  
The news shocked our town. There hadn’t been an accidental death there in nearly a decade, primarily because no one new every came to town, and no one ever left. Ivy Peterson was the first new person in town in about six years. Everyone around here knew the eb and flow of the town, and how to stay safe. Having been from the city, we all assumed Ivy would be fine, but we were wrong. I should have told her to mind herself, even in our little town.  
The dirty-blonde haired, slender woman had accepted a job as our new history teacher straight out of college. In the middle of Idaho, my little town was near forgotten by the map, and I couldn’t quite figure out why she wanted to come. Not that Moore was without its charms, but it was small, and she was coming from one of the biggest universities in the state. She had lived a life surrounded by technology and people. Here, the most exciting technology was Ray’s new tractor, which itself was bought used from one of the corporate farms halfway across the state.  
But, she insisted, despite having never set foot in the wood-framed, weathered town stuck in the early 20s, instead of having reached the 70s like the rest of the world. “You’ll be bored here,” we said, “You’ll outgrow us in a year.” But still, she insisted. We needed new blood anyway, as I was getting ready to retire, and without teachers to replace me, the home economics class, history class, parent-teacher association head, and annual school carnival would go without a replacement. So, we hired her, despite thinking she would be bored in no time.  
When she arrived, sweet Ivy had been handed her degree and walked across the gold, grey, and black decorated stage not two weeks prior. In the days that followed, she told me she stayed locked up in her dorm room, walls lined with boxes, trying to pack alone.  
She had worked on that BA in education for five years now. Five because she failed to have good enough grades to be accepted into the program after getting her Associates and had to retake a year’s worth of classes. But, she managed to get in. She hated being set back a year and was often a year older than her classmates. Still, bad grades were a small price to pay for having worked full-time as a waitress the entire time she was in school.  
The money only went so far. Usually, she was able to pay for at least half her tuition but had to take out student loans for the rest. So, even as she walked across the stage and was handed that flimsy piece of paper with her degree typed on it, she later told me she could only think about the thirty thousand in student debt and having taken a job that only paid twenty-five a year. Least the cost of living in Moore is low.  
Originally, she had planned to take a job in central Idaho, as a TA at some expensive private school that would help her progress, but that would also end up as financially sound position for her in the long run. In fact, she had a job lined up at a charter school, that she would have gladly taken, if it weren’t for Beau Isaacs.  
She told me about how she met Beau on a Thursday afternoon when we grabbed lunch at Twin River’s diner during a break in our training for the day. She had met Beau while she was working on one particularly rainy Saturday afternoon. He had walked in, his curly brown hair all array and his trench coat soaked through. The hostess had seated him in her section, so she walked over a moment later, pulling out her pad and pencil as she went.  
“What can I get you?” she asked, before he had even sat down.  
“Just a coffee, thanks,” he replied, peeling off his trench coat.  
“Just my luck,” she muttered, under her breath as she started to walk away.  
“What was that?” he inquired, smiling, for he heard at least part of her complaint.  
“I said coming right up.”  
“I see, because I could have sworn I heard something different.”  
“What do you think you heard?” she asked, putting her hand on her hip and sizing him up with all of her 110-pound frame.  
“Could have sworn you said something like just my luck,” he replied, though he was still smiling, “As if you don’t want to be serving me because I only ordered coffee.”  
“Just a statement,” she answered a bit shortly, tucking her pad back into her pocket, “Cause I got bills to pay and I don’t make a very good tip on a $3 cup of coffee.”  
“How do you know you’re not going to make a good tip?” he asked good-naturedly, though she refused to return his smile.  
“I don’t, but it’s a solid guess,” she answered, slipping her pencil behind her ear as she walked off to get his coffee.  
A moment later, she returned, coffee up and saucer in one hand, sweetener and milk in the other. Sighing, she set them down in front of him, before glancing him over once, and returning her right hand to her hip.  
“Anything else I can get for you?” she questioned, though she still failed to so much as crack a smile.  
“No, not at all, thank you,” he said, grabbing the cup to warm his hands with.  
She disappeared from his view in favor of chatting with the bartender, one of her college friends.  
“He’s cute, you shoulda been nicer to him,” she scolded, having seen the man come in.  
“Please, this is work, not a club to hit on guys. I need the money, not numbers. Besides, he’d never go for the likes of me,” she reminded, taking a deep breath and exhaling, causing her mid-height ponytail to bob back and forth.  
“You never know.”  
“But I do,” Ivy assured her, walking off, assuming he was done with his coffee now and likely wanted a free refill.  
As she rounded the corner, she saw the booth sat empty, void of the presence which had just moments before been inhabited by him. On the table, he left a $20 with a note, which read Call me sometime, I like a woman who’s upfront about her thoughts and his number. After debating with her friend, she ended up calling him the next day. That weekend, they went for a drink at a bar, which turned into dinner the next day, a movie two days later, and dinner again the next night. Soon, it turned into a casual relasonship, which eventually blossomed into a serious one.  
He was a software engineer who had graduated from the University of Idaho a year prior, the same school she attended. His family all lived in Florida, but he got a merit scholarship to U of I, so he relocated in favor of lower cost tuition and lower cost of living. After graduating, he almost immediately got a job offer from a local company, so he made the decision to remain in Idaho, despite considering it boring.  
After dating for two years and seeing Ivy through the loss of her job after being fired for telling off a guest; a car accident which put Beau in the hospital for four nights with a concussion; and the death of Beau’s frog, Frodrick; Beau popped the question in the botanical gardens. Though she was only twenty-three and this was only her second relasonship, Ivy said yes. Beau was a solid guy with a good job who was only two years older than her. He cared about her, and she cared about him. That was enough for her.  
It took her awhile to find a new job. After all, no one wants a waitress who got fired for tossing coffee down the front of a customer who asked where their food was (though no one ever mentioned him having called her a slow, stupid bitch when she couldn’t make their food materialize after his fourth asking). Eventually, she gave up and decided to focus on her senior year of student teaching. Beau offered her the spare bedroom of his apartment, but she wanted to stay closer to campus and opted to remain in the dorms rather than make a thirty-minute commute.  
Still, he gave her a key. Perhaps that was his one mistake. Or perhaps it was forgetting she only had a half-day on Friday because of a district-wide board meeting. Or perhaps, it was not putting up the hotel chain on his door. No matter the circumstances, Ivy arrived three hours early just two weeks prior to her graduation. She turned the key, opened the door, and was slapped in the face by the visual of her fiancé screwing some strawberry blonde chick with red lipstick smeared all across the lower half of her face.  
At first, she told me she was embarrassed to walk in on a couple having sex, but was soon slapped with the realization that it was her fiancé, as it was his apartment, and that embarrassment turned to anger. Beau looked realized the door was open and looked up from beneath the woman, his face smeared with the same lipstick. Frantically, he grabbed for his clothes, throwing the girl off in the process, who immediately realized what was happening and grabbed for her clothes as well.  
“Honey,” he said, shakily, holding his pants up in front of him, “I didn’t know you were going to be home so soon.”  
Ivy started at him for a long time, her kind brown eyes proving she was unsure how to react, whether to be angry or sad. Behind her, the sound of the door opening and closing as the woman left caused her to look back, but only for a moment. Her eyes sank to the floor, off to her right side, trying to make sense of what had just transpired. Finally, she took a deep breath, thinking about how to react.  
“How long?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.  
“What?” he asked, running a hand through his curls and clearly grappling for an answer, “No, no, just the once. Things got out of hand, I swear, it didn’t mean anything.”  
“Don’t lie to me,” she replied with equal calmness, her demeanor still and quiet.  
“No, no, I swear, just the once,” he said again.  
“I said don’t fucking lie to me!” she screamed, ripping the ring from her finger, “You fucking piece of shit, you were just screwing her.”  
“Alright, alright,” he replied, throwing his hands up and stepping back, having seen her turn, “She’s the secretary.”  
“I didn’t ask who she was, did I?” she laughed, almost maniacally, “I asked how long.”  
“I dunno, three months?”  
“Three months! Three months! Was I not enough for you?”  
“Don’t make this more than what is it. I just made a mistake, that’s all,” he answered.  
“Did you just tell me to not make it more than it is?” she laughed, pulling his key from her ring, “Here’s your goddam key. I’m out.”  
With that, she shook her head and stepped back, hurling the key at him as she left. She yanked open the door, then turned back for a moment. She was ready to throw her ring at him, but that was worth some money, she instead, she shoved it deep in her pocket. He didn’t deserve to have that back. Scoffing, she shook her head again and slammed the door behind her, cutting him off mid-sentence as he continued to try and reason with her.  
Once outside, she walked towards her car, eerily calm. She wasn’t going to cry over him, he wasn’t worth it. So instead, she got into her beat up green Explorer and flew out of the parking lot and to the pawn store. As she went inside, her phone buzzed as Beau tried to call her. Laughing, she declined the call, blocked the number, and sold the ring.  
A week later, she got the new job. She declined her job at the private school near Beau’s apartment, which she had taken because they planned to move in together. She accepted the job without ever having seen our town. Anything was better than that city. She couldn’t be there, not after having broken up with him. She needed to go somewhere new. Besides, had it not been for having met him, she would have moved out of the city anyways. It was too full of cars and people. Two weeks later, she quit her waitressing job, rented a little apartment in Moore, sight unseen, walked for her Bachelors’, and arranged for her belongings to be transported.  
When she moved into her new apartment, all of her things had so far failed to arrive. So, she got takeout from our little diner down the street, ate on the floor watching the TV, and slept on her mattress on the ground, which she had transported by tying to the top of her Explorer. It had been a ten-hour drive through nothing but corn rows and dirt fields. But, she was here now, and this would be her fresh start. Away from everyone who knew she had to retake a year of college, away from her past jobs, and away from Beau.  
School was out as it was summer. Everyday, she reported to me at the school. I trained Ivy in taking over all my current duties and quickly became her confidant. She didn’t know anyone else, and I suppose grey-haired old ladies really put people at ease. Still, despite the many hats I trained her on, she picked up on it easily and she was a likeable young woman. I pitied her, but I also knew this was going to be a good job for her. She was independent and had freedom within her own classroom, she wasn’t restricted to be a TA, but got to make her own choices. And, if she screwed up, there were only three kids to disappoint, so it really was a win-win situation.  
Eight days into her solitude of knowing no one but and trying to deal with Beau’s actions, she bid me goodnight and informed me of her decision to go for a walk around the town, just to see some of the sights and familiarize herself with the area. There really wasn’t much to see other than a solo blinking light in the center of town and the long-forgotten mine shaft a mile or so outside of Moore. Still, she needed to clear her head and wanted to see the old mine shaft.  
The mine shaft was about as disappointing, as I told her, but still, she insisted, as seemed her way. It was just a few blackened, weathered wooden beams forming the semblance of an opening. Sighing, she turned back around to town, having had a mile and a half walk to get there. It was dark that night, the moon only a little sliver in the sky. Still, if she along the side of the road, it would lead her back to town. So, she started back, for the first time, thinking about what had happened and trying to decipher why she was so upset.  
She never really thought she would have been wanted, least not by someone worthwhile, and certainly not by someone as attractive as Beau. Her first relasonship had been disappointing, ending when her boyfriend at the time proved himself too immature for anything to ever happen. She even had to ask him out, and before that, she had only ever been asked out as a joke. It was rather depressing, really, but she never really cared. Until Beau, she thought she was just going to be single. But then, he made the first move. And he told her he wanted her. Now, that all fell apart. Not that she needed him, but it hurt. It hurt that he decided he loved another woman, that he acted on those feelings, and that she caught him, and that he had been doing it for----  
She had probably been so deep in thought that she didn’t see the light of the semitruck as it screamed along the highway. She likely didn’t even notice she had wandered a few steps too far onto highway 93 and was on the road itself instead of on the shoulder. The driver said she didn’t scream. There was no time. She didn’t even move. There was no time.  
I was informed of her death the next morning, just after six, even though she had been dead for hours before then. The cops found her phone and went through the contacts, starting with her parents. Eventually, Beau was notified. Apparently, he didn’t even know she had left the city, as she chose not to tell him. He had already gotten engaged to his secretary and moved on from the waitress who told him off so many years before. Her parents had her remains and the rest of her belongings flown to them, without ever even visiting the town of Moore where their daughter died.  
The town talked about her loss for days, and I ended up having to stay on another year since no one was around to replace me. The townsfolk speculated for days, wondering if it was suicide or accidental. I like to think it was an accident, since she never seemed that sad, but I may just be telling myself that to help with the guilt of forgetting to remind her to steer clear of the highway, even though she should have known. And so, the newspapers printed her story the next morning:  
Local Teacher Hit by Semitruck Overnight


End file.
